Life after Love
by l'amore e amore
Summary: This is a story that tells the unaltered version of the 'real world' conflicting nature of love. It's jam-packed with awkward moments, hilarious situation, bone melting romance and oh did i forget to mention, heated spicy love scenes!
1. Prologue

Life after Love

**Prologue **

People never really realize what a dull existence they've been living until they fall in love. It's as though their whole life has been striped down allowing them to see what was hidden all along. It's like waking up to the most beautiful sunrise you have ever set your eyes upon, realising you have never, in all your years, witnessed such magnificent beauty. One can describe love as the sun, filled with fiery passion, exploding across the sky, engulfing every crack, every corner with its warmth and radiance, however, taunting you that you may never experience such a jubilant moment again. This is realities way of sticking it in your face, deriding you with the fact you have wasted half of your life and there is nothing that can be done to reverse it. For me this is how I felt the moment I was 'blessed' with the feeling of the all-pervasive emotion known as Love. I understand my description is quite disdainful, yet somehow as much as I try to write it out as being a shitty experience, I can't get the fact out of my head that is was the most glorious moment of my life. I have never felt so much contentment albeit with such pain at the same time. The episode was sickly sweet. I would willingly die a thousand deaths just to have that little part of my life played over again. See now that's peculiar, never in all my pathetic existence have I ever spoken so. I'm afraid this is beyond my control for, like many fools, I have fallen under the dreaded curse of Love.


	2. Chapter 2

**Edwards POV**

7:30 a.m.

BEEP BEEP (press snooze button)

Fifteen minutes later

BEEP BEEP (Press snooze button)

Fifteen minutes later

BEEP BEEP (press snooze button)

Fifteen minutes later

BEEP BEEP … shut the fuck up already I got it I'm getting up!

Damn alarm clocks and their fuken obnoxious ringing.

8:05 a.m. Shit I'm was going to be late, (press snooze button)

8:20 a.m. Ok now I really needed to get up. I groped around trying to figure out where the light switch was. That's funny it seemed to have moved…Oh right… new apartment.

And new job.

And a new wake up time.

Holy crap new wake up time. I fumbled around trying to get my bearings right till I finally found the doorknob. And let me tell you, trying to find such a thing in a room shrouded in darkness can be quite the task. Shit I was going to be late. Again. I grabbed my toiletries and sprinted (more like stubbled) towards the bathroom. The toilet was bloody freezing; it was a damn shock to my system. I quickly washed my hair and scrubbed the night's bed sweat away. I tried to make my hair presentable but the thing has a mind of its own. I was now majorly running late and I still haven't even set out my clothes.

I rushed back to my bedroom stubbing my big toe on the way. Damn does that sting.

8:38 a.m. I don't have time to choose what to wear so I throw on the first things that I grab. I grab my files from my nightstand and head to the kitchen. I'm ready in about two minutes, giving me just enough time to shove a spoon full of coffee beans into my mouth and drown it all down with a swing from the milk carton.

It's still not quite bright outside and the town seems to be dead quite. It seems I'm the only bastard stupid enough to wake up this bloody early. Meh, at least I won't be stuck in traffic.

As I'm waking down the stairs I meet Mrs Ann and her little daughter on the way down.

'Good morning Mrs Ann'. I might swear like a sailor but my mamma knew to raise me.

Mrs Ann seemed shocked to see me, covering her daughters' eyes and rushing past me.

'Um okay…nice to see you too'. Huh, that was weird.

As I stepped out onto the street I felt a very pleasant breeze between my legs.

Now that felt gooood.

I looked down and:

A-My fly was open

B-Had a rip in my pants

Or

C-No pants at all.

If you answered C then congratulations, you just won first prize.

Fuck, that's why Mrs Ann gave me that look; she must think I'm some perverted freak. Oh crap. I look at my watch and it's already 8:42 a.m. There was no point in rushing anymore; I was going to be late no matter what. I dragged my sorry (pants less) ass all the way up to my apartment, not giving a crap who saw me (at least I'm wearing boxers people). I chucked on a pair of jeans and head out.

The drive to work was to say the least, tiring. And to top it off, I'm stuck with a pathetic excuse of a job. Working statistics to make a living. Man can maths do your head in.

Well this is my new job. At least I'm not stuck in a pathetic town as well.

About a month ago I was living in a small town called Forks. Now how can I describe in words the life I had in Forks. Boring. Dull. Dead. Zombie-like. Give-you-suicidal-thoughts-quiet. I don't care. You can come up with a more colourful way of putting it, but the point is if you had dreams, that town just out right killed them for you. See my father was the head surgeon of Forks, and as cliché as this is, everyone expected me to be a surgeon. I was an A grade student. I graduate, not only top of my class but as well as the state. So yeah I had the brains for it, but not the damn heart. My passion involves pen and paper. If you don't know what I mean, let me make it plain simple. I wanted to be a writer. Now the funny part is, my father loathed the idea; he told me people only choose such a job because they're lazy fucktards who prefer to work whenever they want. It wasn't a 'real' job. Now I don't mind the whole 'choose when to work' part. What got me was the fact my dad couldn't appreciate the hard work it takes to actually come up with these creative ideas. These 'fucktards' do what they want to do, write what they want to write, because they WANT to. Not because they couldn't do anything else.

So, being the 'caring' father that he is, he told me to get my head on straight and head of to med school where I can get a 'real' job and make 'real' money. That just about did it for me.

The last thing I remember before walking out the door with my suitcase was telling my father to take HIS dreams and shove them up his sorry ass. And man oh man was the look on his face priceless.

Now back to the present day, I live in Seattle, renting a shit-tastic apartment, and working a job I hate. Don't ask what happened to the whole I want to be a writer thing. Don't get me wrong I still do but the problem is I need to make some cash on the side. So I just took this a temporary job. I'm hoping in about a month or two I can quit and start working on a novel.

I look at the dashboard and the clock is flashing 8:55 a.m. Great I'm ten minutes late. And today is presentation day. Can this get any worse.

I got my stuff out of the car and ran through the doors, sending some sorry new dude falling onto his ass. I made it to the glass doors, and just as I was about to go through, the secretary lady stops me.

"You do know, Mr…."

"Cullen, Mr Cullen"

"Yes, well you're ten minutes late"

Obviously you freezy haired bitch. Now don't think I'm some misogynist, but this bitch had it out for me from day one. She _always_ stops me, bitching about something I've done wrong. She just straight out hates me. And I don't know why. I tried being polite, even giving her my signature panty-dropping smile. But that just seemed to worsen the situation.

"Yes I know and I'm sorry. I was caught up in traffic".

"Well don't let it happen again".

God that nasally voice of hers is driving me over the brink.

I rush through the door and fling myself into a room full of these old geezers. Now I'm the only guy here whose twenty-two, everyone else is either forty or more. For that reason, they all hate me. I'm still young and already I'm with the old dogs.

"Nice of you to make an appearance Mr Cullen",

"I'm terribly sorry sir, traffic was a mayhem",

" Yes well, let us start already. Do you have your files Mr Cullen?"

" I sure do sir, just a moment please".

I blindly rummaged through my suitcase for the files, finally grabbing something familiar and spread it out on the table. I turn to the boss and start my presentation.

" As you can see gentlemen, on the central general area we wish to actually insert the main international relations into that separate grouping right there and give it a bit of a preverbal thrust into our future relations".

There was a collective gasp from the room, followed by silence. Huh, must have got onto something here.

" Mr Cullen! What is the meaning of this…this. Explain your self!"

I flinched from the boss's unexpected outburst.

"What do you mean sir? I … I"

I turn around placing my hand on the 'supposed' graph, only to have it landing right between the legs of Playboys cover girl of the month.

Why fuck me backwards and yell Huha...I'm totally screwed.

Hi everyone.

Well this is my first chapter (ever)…it's from Edwards's point of view but this story will be from Bella's point of view as well. Hope you guys enjoyed it and please leave a review of what you think…I want to improve my stories so be negative if you must lol.

Thanks everyone have a great day =)


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